POEMS. 




BEN FIELD 





Book •J_?^_ 

CopyrightN^ L^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



POEMS 



And 



Poems of California and the West 



By 



.'^.v.A.'^A4t//./v\.. 



BEN FIELD 




^ARTIetVeRnVKTIJ I 



BOSTON 
RICHARD G. BADGER 

The Gorham Press,, ,, 



5 ^ , 



Copyright 1903 by Ben Field. 
All Rights Reserved 



i 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Two Copies Received 

APR 19 1904 

Copyrig-ht Entry 

CLASS It XXc. No. 

COPY B 






.x^ 



; Frkt>t»»dat 
The Gcrkau Paess 
<■ I Boston, \U, S. A. 



ERRATA 

IN THE CONTENTS My Nurse should 
be MY MUSE. Rendine should be 
UNDINE. The Minstrel Put The Viol 
Down should be THEN MINSTREL PUT 
THE VIOL DOWN. 

Page I I , in note to The Rocks of Ramirez^ 
the last word (^ruz) should be (^rez). 

Page 26, in The Atheism Of The Man in 
eleventh line asperations should be aspirations. 

In fifteenth line Saharah should be Sahara, 
and in eighteenth line dost should be doth. 

Page 33, in Beauty And Love, in second 
line Nor should be Not^ 

Page 50, in The Pathos Of The Ages, 
thirteenth line the word stand should be 
stands. 

P^ge 56, in Womaff s Love, last verse on 
page, first line, eye should be aye. 

Page 67, in The Ocean Burial, in second 
verse, second line, the word at is omitted after 
word lie. Also in fi^urth verse, fourth line, 
word here should be her . 

Page 85, in A History Of Arizona, fourth 
verse, fourth line always should be alway. 

The Banyan Tree is reprinted through the 
kind permission of The Overland Monthly, 



. •. CONTENTS 

The Sign of the Ultimate 9 

The Soul's Defiance 9 

Poetry 10 

The Rocks of Ramirez. 11 

The Dragon 12 

Liberty 13 

O Speak to Me 14 

Music 15 

We Suffer Not Alone 16 

The Slave 17 

My Nurse 18 

Ocean 20 

The Rhythm of Life 21 

The Prayer of Gloom 22 

Beautiful Hills 23 

America and Immortality 24 

The Atheism of the Man 26 

Sappho, Alone 2^ 

Things in Heaven and Earth 28 

Good-By 29 

O Say, Little Boy 30 

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread 30 

5 



CONTENTS 

A Singer of Songs 31 

Rendine 32 

Beauty and Love 33 

He Plays on Heart of Hers 33 

Longings She Left Behind 34 

A Bunch of Roses 35 

Rome, America — The Difference 35 

Gardens of Silence 37 

Lights of the City '38 

My Love, The Wind 39 

One From Millions 40 

The Garden of the World 41 

A Fragment 42 

My One Sweet Thought 42 

One Heart 43 

My Dead Love 44 

The Bright Side 45 

O Kiss Me 45 

Quiet Dreams 47 

South — North 51 

The Swing of the Pendulum 51 

The Three Desires 52 

6 



CONTENTS 

The Minstrel put the Viol Down 53 

Wraiths . 54 

Woman's Love 55 

The Envied Rose 57 

The Sorceress 57 

Blood 58 

Till Then and Yet Until 59 

Communion 59 

That Which I Scorned 60 

Worship — ^A Wraith 61 

The Mystic Secret 62 

Fame and Love 62 

Christ Before Pilate 64 

Punishment 64 

A Night with Fate 64 

What's to Do 66 

The Ocean Burial 67 

Sweetheart 68 

Human Waters 68 

The Heart that Throbs Intense 70 

Woman's Eyes 70 

Unfathomable 71 

7 



CONTENTS 
Impatience for Fame 71 

POEMS OF CALIFORNIA AND THE WEST 

A Sign 73 

A City of California 75 

The Spirit of Los Angeles 76 

Hail to the Chief 'J'J 

Junipero Serra 78 

The Eighth Wonder 79 

On Raymond Hill. 80 

A Dream Prophecy 81 

Catalina 82 

The Banyan Tree at Avalon 83 

A History of Arizona 84 

The Song of the Siren of Rio Colorado 85 



8 



THE SIGN OF THE ULTIMATE 

I stood on an island sea beach, 
No other soul was there 
Save the soul of the island, sleeping, 
And the soul of God in the air. 

The beach was long and lonely 
And my soul was lonely too: 
No being gave me greeting, 
But above the sea-birds flew. 

Full well I knew the sea of Life, 
' Full long I'd searched its deeps. 
But now, behold, oncoming, 
A wave that landward sweeps. 

I saw with eyes far seeing. 
And knew with thought profound : 
I heard the rush of Being 
In that tumultuous sound. 

Power spoke with accent certain, 
Force lived in that wild roar. 
An aeon raised its curtain — 
A billow crashed ashore. 

THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE 

Take if Thou wilt my every hope away! 

Crush down the longings of my youth, 
Make dark the glorious spring-like day, 

Forbid the mind that seeketh Truth. 

Strong One, whoever Thou mayst be! 
On me cast Thou the evil of Thine eye, 



Take strength and love and power to see, 
Thy direst deeds still I defy. 

While life doth last, and heart doth beat however 
faint, 

I'll lift my soul to realms of beauty fair 
And, though Thy breath doth scorch and taint, 
ril laugh and love and revel there. 



POETRY 

Thou art the deep and mystic sea 

That laps against the hurrying feet 

Of men and calms their idle fears. 

And every being bends the knee 

Upon thy strand, for life is sweet 

Where blows the wind from unknown spheres. 

No more can man in Science trust 
Than in the work that thou hast done, 
Nor yet so much, for thou art Life. 
Thou art the glitter, through the rust, 
That shines as through the clouds the sun — 
Thou art the motive of the strife. 

The poet is the man that sings. 
That plays upon the harp's wild strings. 
That reads the tale of starry skies. 
That soars aloft on seraph's wings, 
That, from the stone, the statue brings. 
That sees the depths in woman's eyes. 

The poet is the man whose brush 
Can paint with words, that flush 
To cheek doth bring, 

lO 



Whose canvas is the human heart — 
He makes the whole world sing. 

Poetry is Life's wild song, 

The voice of right, the cry of wrong. 

The sign of fairer days. 



THE ROCKS OF RAMIREZ 

Long years ago, with childish eyes, 
I gazed upon a mountain, grand, 
That reached its hoary height 
-Up, up into the azure skies. 
I wondered then, in childish spell. 
How many years were passed and gone 
Since first that mountain rose, 
Or first the waters from it fell 
And left it there, in grim repose. 

In later days, a boy, I roved the seas 

And once away to southward sailed 

And, rounding wild Cape Horn, 

I saw the rocks of Ramirez 

That jut, an island, through the blue 

And billowy waves. 

Defying all the ships that sail, — 

Diego Ramirez, but you. 

And sky and water and the south wind's wail! 

Note. — The author, when a boy, sailed around 
Cape Horn on an English merchantman bound 
from San Pedro, California, to Queen^town, and 
he uses the word Ramirez as the sailors pro- 
nounced it, — accent on the last syallable (ruz). 



II 



Against thy rocky crags the billows dashed, 

The white spray stung thy cliffs, 

The sea birds circled round thy shores, 

With sullen roars the ocean crashed. 

I see it still, the salt sea foam. 

Climb up thy sides to fall! 

We passed the rocks of Ramirez 

And set our sails for home, 

But memory yet is on the seas. 



THE DRAGON 

Gods and Devils all my heroes. 
Hell and Heaven each my tryst. 
With my claws upon the pulsing. 
Great and brawny wrist 
Of Earth, 

Mirth! 

To know her fears, 
To see her tears, 
To feel her quaking. 
To force her waking; 
When Ignorance, my son, 
Stalks through the land 
And Fear, my fair one. 
Holds by either hand! 

1 am the Dragon who sits on high. 
Behind a thunder cloud. 

I send far off and beckon nigh 

And wrap the world in gloomy shroud. 



12 



I clutch with vicious claws — O glee! 

I am the Dragon of earth and sea! 

When cities burn and ships go down, 

Ho I there am I in hellish, gown. 

I put a finger to my mouth 

And whistle, when the earth has drouth. 

If men. will fight. 

For wrong or right, 

It matters not which it may be, 

I clap them on to kill or flee. 

I send the missionaries out 

The foreign wars to bring about : 

Hell is my seething caldron-pot 

And misery my garden plot. 

I am the Dragon! 
Ho ! ho, old world ! 
Wag on, content am I. 



LIBERTY 

Fair Liberty thou art a goddess bright! 

And strange are the deeds that we do for thee 

And the ways of the world that make men free 

Are as fair as the day and black as night. 

In the name of a God fanatics fight — 

As the spirits of darkness cowards flee, 

Till War has wrecked like a storm on the sea 

And the wrong has given place to the right; 

But Liberty fair thou soarest on high — 

Yet higher still as the centuries roll 

And the voice of tyrants is fain to cry 

That the Truth is emblazoned on thy scroll. 

While the angel of wisdom draweth nigh 

Come the nations of earth to Freedom's goal. 

13 



O SPEAK TO ME. 

I love the hills my Saviour trod, 
The vales where he communed with God, 
Here Glamour all her flowers has strown, 
I love this land — his very own. 

As Thou didst speak at Pentecost, 
O Jesus speak to me, or chide. 
But speak while walking at my side; 
Speak, speak to me! 

As Thou didst speak at Galilee, 
To men of old, speak now to me; 
As spake Thy passion at Gethsemane, 
Speak Thou to me! 

It cannot be that Thou art lost. 
Thy Father's house is not so far. 
Thy promises still with me are 
And Time, was only younger, when. 
My Saviour, Thou wert here with men. 
And Space, 'tis just as wide as then; 
Thou mayest surely come again. 
Speak, speak to me! 

O Love of mine transmute, 
This love I bear for earth. 
And give it heavenly birth I 
Hang Thou about it now, 
A halo from Thy brow, 
O speak tO' me ! 

Make sacred my desire! 
And set my soul afire. 
With love of Thee. 

14 



Bend down Thy Kingly head 

That impress of the thorns I see, 

And speak to me ! 

Reach out Thy hands that bleed, 

For Thee I sorely need, 

O speak to me! 

Jesus, my Saviour, mine! 
Speak Thou to-night, 
Illumine with Thy light. 
My Hope! my Love! my God! 
Hear Thou my vow, 
O let me now 
Thy vision see. 
Speak — speak to me! 



MUSIC 

Music! Unveiled hast thou another sphere; 

And over seas of azure clear. 

On wings now slow, now fleet. 

Thou comest. Ah! my heart doth beat 

To rhythmic sounds unknown before. 

My feet press hard upon the shore 

Of wide and silvery sea. 

Across whose waves thou callest me. 

Thy murmur sweet falls on mine ear, 

And then with notes that ever rise. 

Thy thundering tones assail the skies 

And, sinking once again all low, 

Thy martial strain grows soft and slow. 

I feel its meaning, almost seize. 

And then implore on bended knees 

That thou wilt make thy raptures clear. 

That thou wilt bring thy sirens near. 

15 



But as I grasp at joys unknown, 
New beauties flash — the others flown. 
Faster they come! I hold my breath, 
Lest silvery sounds, so sweet, mean death. 

This, Music, is thy shining sea. 
Whose gentle waves roll in to me 
With sounds too sweet for mortal ear. 
With notes too dear for man to hear. 
Upon this shore of thine I stand 
And, longing, look for unseen strand 
Whose verge is fair and far away, 
Unfathomed save by passion's ray. 

Away! I'll leave the world behind 
And launch my bark, that shore to find! 

WE SUFFER NOT ALONE 

Dislodged by graceful deer, 

A sharp and flinty rock 

Leapt down the mountain side, 

And by its own wild force fell clear 

To smiling valley, with a shock 

So great that rugged bark 

Of oak was clave apart, 

And there it sunk 

Into a giant trunk. 

While startled bird and beast 

Resumed their wonted loves, 

And hum of bees was heard. 

And coo of doves. 

But time passed on — 

Weary and sore. 

With cruel love harrassed, 

I sought sweet nature's solitude 

i6 



In smiling valley, o'er 

Which hung wild height, sublime 

With jagged crags. 

A gnarled oak with twisted arms 

And half dead leaves, stood 

In my path and in its trunk 

I saw a sunken rock. 

O'er and about the flinty stone 

The living fiber grew, 

While still that oaken heart 

Was pierced. Alone 

The grand old monarch stood 

Amongst its fellows, firm, 

Who never knew its bitter grief. 

As time dragged on. 

THE SLAVE 

Daughter of brawn, with weary face, 
Rough cap in the arching stone. 

The home she holds in its proper place. 
Sad slave of sinew and bone. 

Never did nerves know how to strain 

Till toil to babes gave birth, 
Till rounded breasts were racked with pain 

And youth was bent to earth. 

Daughter of brawn, with callous hands, 

She knows no happy hour. 
The weary years, with running sands, 

Drag out her bridal dower. 

Grind on, O slave of the sunken! 

While the rich are hot with wine : 
The sons of men are drunken — 

God's justice is divine. 

17 



MY MUSE 

My Muse, O rest awhile! 
My head and heart beguile. 
Stop here thy pace, 
Show me thy face, 
For soul of mine is sad 
And love of mine is sore. 
Make me with passion glad 
And thrill me more and more! 
My Muse, give me thine arms 
And, on thy heaving breast, 
Let head of mine find rest. 
Close to thy bosom warm. 
Let heart of mine alarn* 
My other self. 
With beating! 
With throbbing! 
With such a passion's swirl. 
That brain, in giddy whirl 
Shall drunken be, 
And I, forget! 

Ha, ha ! rouse up, O sluggish soul ! 
Thinkst thou a Muse may tarry. 
Thine arms to feel, thy kisses hot 
To pay, thy passion long to parry? 
I wave my hand to thee ! come on ! 
Forget not fame all fair! 
Rouse up and strive beloved one. 
Rouse up to do and dare! 

Ho! great am I! 
Fame from on high 
Descends to wait on me. 



18 



All people sing my praise, 

A pean, through the days. 

I grasp the hidden key, 

Of Life's one mystery! 

I touch the chords divine! 

The music! it is mine! 

What, kneeling one! 

Who, who art thbu? 

My Muse? Ah yes, 

Why camest here? 

My race is run 

And on my brow, 

All fair to see. 

Are fame's immortal flowers ! 

These, these I give to thee! 

Alas, they fall! 

They crumble! 

Muse, return 

And Hght the fire, 

In blackened urn. 

O Muse, fair Muse! 

My gems are pebbles all, 

My sweets are gall. 

Do not refuse. 

Come back to me ! 

Thine arms are dearer far 

Than garlands fair of fame. 

That burned with bursting flame. 

O let me lie with thee 
And clasp thee in my arms. 
O give my passion free 
Delight to have its full! 
Thou art my queen. 
Far more tO' me than fame! 
My eyes have seen 

IQ 



The depths of smold'ring flame 
In thine. 

Forgive me, Muse! 

Thine arms, 

Thy breasts, 

I will not lose. 

Thy limbs all bare, 

Thy perfumed hair, 

Are more to me 

Than God, 

Or hope of Heaven ! 

As bee the honey sips, 

Kiss, kiss my longing lips. 

I know not dread nor fright, 

Hold, hold me tight! 

I die! but Muse, 

In thy embrace, 

'Tis sweet with thee tO' face 

The mask of death ! 

Breathe out thy breath again, 

Close, close to me, and then 

Thyself in passion's ecstasy 

Refuse me not, 

O Muse, my Muse. 



OCEAN 

Ocean, pray, how deep are you? 
Ocean wide, how old? 
Could I but wander, wander through 
Your blue depths, silent — cold! 

Old Ocean, your sheer, satin gown. 
Is g^ood and fair to see : 

20 



Those that with battered wrecks go down, 
In it shall folded be. 

Then give me, Ocean, restless strength 
To travel o'er you far, 
To know your reach and sinuous length, 
Till towering" mountains bar. 



THE RHYTHM OF LIFE 

Mute and unshaped, in marble hills, 

Are untouched Mercurys lying, 
Fairer of form, with power more rife 

Than gladiators dying. 

Has sculptor cut a Venus face, 

Or shaped a warrior's bust? 
The dream undreamed is fairer yet 

Than these, that turn to dust. 

The touch, that makes a canvas live, 

Was taught by hands unseen, 
Yet fairer gifts are there to give 

And fairer flowers to glean. 

Back of the hand, that holds the brush. 

Is the dream of a godlike mind. 
But the graceful flight of the soul of Art, 

Is swift as the stormy wind. 

The song of the singer is not so sweet 

As the song that was never sung. 
So the words we hold, with the heart's quick 
beat. 

To the winds are never flung. 

21 



The story of Love is told to men 

In rhythmic words aflame, 
A deeper tale is left untold, 

Too fair for man to name. 

Back of the dream, of the painter. 

Back of the sculptor's ideal, 
Far, where the song sounds fainter. 

Where the soul is strong and leal. 
Up, where the air is ether, 

Keen as the edge of a knife, 
Down, in the depths of Nature, 

Flows ever the Rhythm of Life. 

THE PRAYER OF GLOOM 

Aimlessly wandering at dawn of day. 
Unknowing I went from the beaten way, 
Where men go to and fro, 
Till halting at last at a lonely spot. 
Away from my God and by men forgot. 
My head I bended low. 

I was young, but the years oppressed, 
I was weary, my woe confessed; 
Nature was blank, and Love was a lie, 
I sank on the earth and the welcome tears 
Refused to come, nor devilish fears 
To rouse me more as the time went by. 

How long I may not tell 
Mine eyes stared into Hell 
When onward came a cloud 
My ghastly gaze to shade. 
Came dark and dripping to my aid 
And threatened me, as if a shroud. 

22 



I prayed this hovering Gloom to lower 
And cover me with grave clothes o'er; 
Mine arms stretched I aloft, 
As came the stormy wraith 
Drawn by niy mighty faith, 
And spilled its rain-drops soft. 

Then raged the gale, 

On frail earth, — irail; 

In awe I held my breath. 

Bent were the trees, 

Blown to their knees 

They menaced me with death. 



BEAUTIFUL HILLS 

Bathed in the blue of creation, 
Hushed by the hand that is strong, 
Prone on the breast of the mother, 
Aglow with her light and her song — 

Thy beauty is soft Hke the ocean. 
Thy charm is sucked from the earth. 
When islands were rocked and cradled 
The mother gave thee in birth. 

Babe of quiet contentment. 
Child of the peace that fills. 
Offspring born of loving — 
Beautiful, mystic hills. 



2> 



AMERICA AND IMMORTALITY 

America! 

How many years hast lived? 

A century's span and more! 

Ha, ha! 

A swallow builds its home within a cave 

And, pecking in the sturdy tree, 

A bird doth make its nest — 

And both may last as long. 

What hast thou done 

To stamp upon the face of time 

An impress of thy being? 

Liberty ! Washington ! 

Ho, ho! 

Rome had her generals 

And aspirations too 

And where are they? 

The faith of Christ 

Within thy borders nourished! 

There are a thousand others — 

Thy sons have died- — 

Their deeds once done 

Are passed and silent— 

E'en printed books must mould and rot; 

But thou, America! 

What hast thou done 

That thou canst think to last? 

That men through thee 

Have learned to live as men 

And not as beasts? 

What matters how men live 

Since, dying, they are through ? 

Immortal, sayest thou? 



24 



We ask for proof! 

What man that died 

E'er came again to tell us 

Of his going? 

What soul once sunk 

In death's oblivion 

E'er sent a message back? 

Be still ye little ones 

Who tell us fairy tales 

That we have heard before! 

We ask for proof — 

One jot or tittle that is true! 

Egypt built her pyramids — 

We know she did! 

A people put them there — 

And ancient kings 

Reared temples 

That a million suns 

Have shone upon — 

But thou, America! 

Where is thy monument 

Dedicated to the onward roll 

And strewn about with bones ? 

Go then and on thy desert plains 

Erect a mound! 

Let thousands die 

If need be — that it may grow! 

And in its center 

Construct a room 

Built firm with parian slabs 

And blocks of flint 

And on an ivory throne 

With crystal pillars guarded 

Place there a golden scroll 

Held open by a hand — 

25 



And in this scroll 

Set diamonds 

That shall spell 

In Saxon words — 

America did this thing — 

And when 'tis done 

No surer proof there'll be 

Of dreamy Immortality. 



THE ATHEISM OF THE MAN. 

Ye paltry being that dost boast 

The knowledge of a god — 

The wisdom of the ages — 

Do thou one starlit night 

But raise from lowly sod 

Thine eyes and gaze where stars, 

Innumerable and bright, 

Shine on the puny deeds of men. 

O be thou of earth's sages! 

It matters not. 

Thy deeds, thy asperations. 

Thy wild ambition, and delight 

In what it seems thou hast achieved 

Are but a grain of sand 

Blown on the wide Saharah. 

O self- wise scholar! 

In whose hand the key 

Of learning dost but lightly rest, 

Seal up thy foolish lips 

And bind the wordy sheaf. 

Thou hast, in wanton heart. 

Made bold to say 

"There is no God!" 

Look on the budding rose! 

26 



Behold the blade of grass! 

See thou the coming day, 

Bright shod 

With glory ! and the night 

Like gentle mass 

For souls that pass away! 

Lift up thine eyes with humble faith 

And know 

That thou art let to be 

Is proof of immortality ! 



SAPPHO, ALONE. 

Sappho! sleeping still alone! 
The moon and Pleiades have set. 
Full half the lovely night has flown 
And thou! and thou all passionate! 

The time is passing, fair one, now 
Upon thy sweetly swelling breast 
And on thy Grecian Goddess brow, 
Should Phaon's head and kisses rest. 

Sappho! sleeping still alone? 
O wanton sweet, unknown to shame! 
From, Rapture's arms thy lover flown, 
Shall live his flight to sorely blame. 



ARRAIGNMENT AND ANSWER. 

Why give me a soul to suffer. 
Why a heart but to hurt? 
Is the glitter of life worth grasping, 
The gold to dig from the dirt? 

27 



God! why do I love so keenly? 
Did you place me here for a jest? 
Can I never break down the barriers 
'Twixt me and all that is best? 

Did I ask to be born to loving, 
To loving forever alone? 
Then pardon my foolish rashness 
And change me into a stone! 

O God forgive my rebellion 
Or yet it is quite too late! 
And God tO' my soul said softly — 
''Comes all to him that can wait." 



THINGS IN HEAVEN AND EARTH. 

O, the sweet scent of grasses, 

The odor of violets 

And new-mown hay, 

Wihen love, unfathomed, passes 

In garments airy, 

An unseen fairy, 

Close to your wandering way. 

O, the choruses of morning, 
The last damp mists of night, 
The hour of mystic seeing 
When day is just adorning. 
With rosy beams of light, 
Her awakened charms of night 
That stir her lover's being. 

O, the foaming breast of billows, 
O, the soughing of the pine 

28 



And the lonely desert's breath 
And the arm from out the willows. 
O, the mystery of life 
And the endlessness of strife 
And the going down to death. 



GOOD-BY 

Good-by! we lightly say it o'er, 
And when the friend has gone 

And we have sihut the narrow door, 
Joy too is then withdrawn. 

Alas ! and did we know 

The turning of a street 
Would bring us endless woe, 

That ne'er again his feet 
Would tread within our hall, 

Think you Convention's claim 
Would put on Love a pall 

And let him go, — the same? 

Good-by! O, why did love of mine 

Not brush aside its fear, 
And arms of mine entwine — entwine 

His neck, in rapture dear? 

Good-by! he thinks I love him not; 

He's far away, amongst the years, 
While life to me is ever fraught 

With pain and bitter tears. 



^ 



O SAY, LITTLE BOYl 

I'll sail away to lullaby land 
Where my little boy goes when asleep, 
Where the cockle shells roll on the yellow sand 
And the water is only knee deep. 

And along the shore of that shining strand 

We'll meet 'neath starry domes 

And you and I with hand in hand 

Shall visit the little homes 

Of the pretty people of poppy land. 

Who receive on drowsy day, 

And the little brown maids with a brownie band 

Shall sing in a wonderful way 

And the trooping fairies from the hills will come 

As the mermaids comb their hair. 

While you and I with the elfins roam 

Each star has a golden stair 

Stretching away o'er the waters deep 

And rising into the night 

Where the angels play, and will not sleep. 

Bo-peep till morning light. 

O say, little boy, will you meet me there 
Beneath the gloaming skies 
And with me climb the starry stair 
Up, up to Paradise? 



GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD 

"Give us this day our daily bread" 
Lisp babes in a lullaby 
And the little ones whose prayers are said 
Asleep on their pillows lie. 

3q 



'Tis well — but the years that come 
Dispel the lessons taught 
And tender hearts grow cold and numb 
While bread is sold and bought. 

"Give me to eat!" the beggar cries 
"Fm hungry and I die !" 
And Christ looks out from Paradise 
And sees the rich go by. 



A SINGER OF SONGS 

She stands before her shrine, 

All lovely and all fair 
And laurel leaves entwine 

Her golden crown of hair. 

She stands at music's fount, 

Apollo's devotee. 
The fabled swan to mount, 

She stoops with bended knee. 

Yet, till with Paean far she flies, 

I watch and never tire 
Of glorious songs and glorious eyes 

Aglow with, deathless fire. 

But sweet and fairest friend. 
With song, before thy shrine. 

Love's worship is my end; 
Your harp this heart of mine. 



31 



UNDINE 

A youth upon a lonely sea beach lay 

And dreamed and woke and dreamed again of 

Love; 
Awake at last, — it was the close of day 
And one was watching him from rocks above. 

She was a nymph, of beauty wild and fair, 
And eyes of brown spoke longing none may tell; 
Old ocean's water dripped from golden hair. 
And sea weed from her graceful shoulders fell. 

Naked, Undine held the sea weed to her breast 
And wound it with her hair about her arms. 
And there, upon the golden sands — her love con- 
fessed — 
She won the dreaming youth with rosy charms. 

The last red gleams of sun flashed fiery, rare, 
The youth vowed love and worship of a slave, 
Then Undine led the way, with flowing hair. 
To bridal bed in rocky cave. 

Nor would she go with him until that time, 
When earth and air and sea were mild. 
When every heart beat soft with song and rhyme 
She held within her arms a little child. 

Then Undine's bosom thrilled with heaven's joy, 
Her virgin dreams had borne her to the goal, 
For as she pressed to rounded breast her boy. 
She knew that hove had given her a Soul. 



3* 



BEAUTY AND LOVE 

Straight is the line of beauty, 
Nor curved as often said: 
Look far away o'er ocean, 
Across the briny bed. 

Straight is the long horizon, 
Straight as the line of duty; 
Though heaven is arched above us 
Straight is the line of beauty. 

Old ocean's bed is bended, 
Old ocean's surface too, 
But beauty is not ended 
When curved away from you. 

Straight is the line of beauty! 
When love has made retreat 
The heart has one sweet duty, 
Straight to the maiden's feet. 



HE PLAYS ON HEART OF HERS 

He plays on heart of hers. 
As fingering o'er the keys, 
Music obeys his touch. 
In her sad face one sees 
The soul in passionate clutch 
Of love. 

He plays on heart of hers. 
But his wild love has flown 
To other skies; 
For other eyes 

33 



He longs, 

And songs 

Of his are sung full fair, 

For one that is not with him there. 

O pity! that these loves, like souls. 
Must stray and miss their goals. 
These loves that banish hovering night 
And bring to us untold delight. 
Yet whensoever a heart doth love, 
Somewhere, however late, 
In garden or in greenwood grove, 
The mourning dove 
Will find its mate. 



LONGINGS SHE LEFT BEHIND 

Sweetheart, you have gone to make a name. 

Fame's castle you have almost built. 
But know, sweetheart, time runs the same 

And castles are covered with gilt. 
Do you think your castle so fair may rise 

That Time, on bended knee, 
Shall show to all mens' wondering eyes 

Your name, my Gertie Lee? 

Do you think the lamps that cheer the night, 

Close down to the door of death. 
Are filled with sparks of fame all bright 

Or are they filled with breath? 
Breath and soul and baby life, 

Small hands that clasp the knee. 
Fairest flowers of fame or wife 

O gentle Gertie Lee! 



34 



Sweetheart, I long for your love alway — 

To share in your love and life^ — 
I long for your arms, your eyes each day, 

Sweetheart — my darling — my wife! 
But if Castle of Fame shines all too fair 

And it may never be 
You will find me waiting for you, close there 

By the gates, O Gertie Lee. 

A BUNCH OF ROSES 

Thy birthday, sweetheart. 
Is my birthday too 
* For love makes my heart beat 

When thoughts are of you 
And the love that I offer 

The queen of my soul 
Was born on thy birthday. 

Has thee for its goal. 
I wish thee, my sweetheart, 

A happy birthday 
And I send thee this token 

In sweet old-time way. 

ROME, AMERICA— THE DIFFERENCE 

A Tribute to President McKinley, May, ipoi. 

The Caesar, drunk with wine 

And satiate with pleasure, 

Had thought of going forth 

Throughout his kingly realm. 

But feared the populace. 

Then called he unto him his lords 

And bade his generals pay attention — 

"Arrest whom ye may at night 

35 



Within the streets of Rome 

And hang them on the morrow 

As a warning- to the people, 

For I, the Emperor, will go abroad. 

Let the Pretorian Guards be doubled 

To wait upon my presence 

Both night and day. 

Send noble couriers forth 

To distant portions of the Empire, 

With sword and honeyed words, 

To raise a tribute for our pleasure, 

Then gather all that's good and fair 

From out our vast domain 

And give it place within my train — 

My jewels and my statuary, 

My works of art and birds and beasts, 

And those that sing and play and dance, 

Provided that they shall not vie with Nero. 

And look you (privately) — 

Send our commands to Antium, 

To Naples and through Greece, 

That wheresoever Nero plays upon the lute 

And sings his own immortal songs 

Men shall be hired or forced to give applause. 

And list you now — 

Bring from her vestal shrine 

The fairest virgin that doth serve the God, 

To wait upon my chamber 

And ease my troubled sleep." 

Thus spake the Emperor Nero 

And they that heard cried out in fear : — 

"Caesar can do no wrong — 

Long live divinest Caesar!" 

And in those days Rome burned 

At his command; 

And Caesar looked — and played upon his lute. 

36 



The President, at his desk, 

Gave heart and brain 

To the welfare of his country. 

Great deeds of state were his 

And words that swayed the nations. 

Men's Hves to him were sacred, 

And property was second unto Hfe. 

Out from the farthest reaches of America 

There came the call of loyal sons 

To see their Chiefest Chief, 

And he was prayed to go abroad. 

New England sent him her petition, 

And far to the South the loyal land 

Made ready for his welcome. 

California flashed down the golden beams 

Of the star of empire 

That hangs above her fairness, 

A message to him full of love. 

And from the islands of the sea 

There came the call of new-born citizens. 

'Twas said of ancient time 

"To be a Roman was greater than to be a King,' 

But we that live to-day 

Rest long our eyes upon the land 

Where Freedom dwells. 

And whisper — 

"God bless our noble President!" 



GARDENS OF SILENCE 

Shaded with cypress where the virgins lie 
Strewn with flowers all the dead. 
Weeping and sighing as the years go by, 
The clouds and trees overhead. 



37 



Fair Gardens of Silence throughout the land- 
Cities of dead that are dear, 
Marble and granite near at hand, 
Lilies to cover up fear. 

Close to the school and church and home 
Not far from the pulse of trade 
Are the silent gardens where mourners roam 
In the gloomy cypress shade. 

Wheresoever villages dot the earth 
Or smoke curls into the air 
Or little children laugh with mirth, 
The Gardens of Silence are there. 

LIGHTS OF THE CITY 

O, the lights of the throbbing city 
That gleam o'er her pulsing ways ! 
Like the stars in the distant heavens 
That glitter between the days. 

Do you know of the terrible distance 
Between your childrens' hearts? 
Do you dream of the bitter struggle. 
Each night in the city's marts? 

The stars in the arching heavens 
Can tell of nature's strife — 
They see the awful discords 
And behold the heavenly life; 

But you, O lights of the city. 
Is your gleam never shadowed by sin ? 
Is your glow but a semblance of pity 
To be hid in the crush and the din ? 

38 



Do you know the hunger and sorrow 
That pierce and stab Hke a knife? 
You brighten but ever the morrow 
Brings ebbing to many a Hfe. 

O lights of the groaning city! 
You see Life's tragic side, — 
You shine on the gay and the witty 
And the hell that never will hide. 

O the glow that you throw about passion ! 
O the gleam that you shed on the fair! 

the glare that you lend to gay fashion 
And the guilt that you find ever there ! 

Shine on, O lights of the city! 
You respect not actions of men, 
For to you a drunken ditty 
Comes close on a solemn amen. 

You know not the barter of virtue, 
You heed not the passion or prayer, 
Your rays shine brightly and ever 
On the guilty, the gay and the fair. 

But to-night as I look o'er the city, 
On her lights as thick as the stars, 

1 wonder if eyes are about us 

As glowing and mystic as Mars, — 

I wonder if spirit lights glitter 
With feelings divergent as men, 
I wonder if Easy and Bitter 
Are weighed in the balance and when. 



?^9 



MY LOVE, THE WIND 

Blow, wild wind, over desert waste, 
Blow here upon my heart! 
I raise my arms with passion's haste 
And love thee as thou art. 

Wind of the desert, wind of the sea, 
Whose fury stilleth men, 
Thou blowest hell fires out for me 
To make me strong again. 

O wind of heaven, wind of earth, 
Thou bold, brave mystery! 
Thou lovest man from death to birth 
Throughout life's history. 

Then here's to thee beloved wind. 
My friend, my soul, my brother! 
If nothing else in life I find. 
We'll love for aye each other. 



ONE FROM MILLIONS 

It matters not what things you do, 
It matters not what leave undone. 
The world has little need of you 
To carry out the work begun. 

Think not your place none else mayfill, 
Think not your deeds are of account. 
Do naught at all or do but ill. 
Your life to nothing shall amount. 



40 



Like ants you swarm o'er little place, 
Like sands your bones lie everywhere; 
And whether slow or swift the race, 
The Gods shall neither know nor care. 

But sometimes in the swing through space, 
An arm is raised in might, 
A giant soul illumes a face 
And dawn dispels the night. 

A Christ walks through the groaning land, 
A Shakespeare writes unseen. 
Napoleon gives a stern command, — 
-But ages run between. 

Then would you live, and not exist, 
Strike! strike! immortal, rouse! 
Peer out from pall of blinding mist, — - 
A coward he, that bows ! 

THE GARDEN OF THE WORLD 

The garden of the world is fair 

And, sheltered by some mossy wall, 

Where never blows the winter storms, 

I rest and watch the graceful forms 

Of maidens, wandering where the wild birds call. 

These seem to be the fairest forms create. 
Their arms are bare and laughing eyes 
Look into mine, and cheeks aglow 
With throbbing blood, all let me know 
That I have found earth's paradise. 

Why should I further search 
Throughout the- garden ot the earth? 

4j. 



Why wander on where death and pain 
Silence with grief the joyous strain 
And cover up the coffined mirth? 

A stranger, I am satisfied 
With songs of birds and gardens green, 
With arching blue of summer skies. 
And smiling blue of woman's eyes, 
Which hint of happiness unseen. 



A FRAGMENT 

Ah Gods! I wake with sighs, — 

Like Sappho's cries when Phaon flies. 

Her snowy arms and beating heart are dreams, 

And yet, — in ages gone, the gleams 

From her dark eyes I knew, it seems. 



MY ONE SWEET THOUGHT 

My one sweet thought ! I hold it never 
Far away from my embrace 
And dwell upon it whensoever 
Would I harsh pain efface. 

It comes to me in dark despair. 
When hard earned gains are quickly lost : 
It comes when I may never dare 
To count the strife and bitter cost. 

O, sweetest thought! Usurper thou 
Of soul's dependency above! 
When thou dost come my head I bow 
And realize the power of Love. 



When days are cold and drear with care, 
Sweetheart, thou comest close to me, 
My one dear thought is doubly fair 
While at Love's shrine I worship thee. 



ONE HEART 

The world has a billion people, 
Aye the world has many more, 

Like sands where the waves are beating. 
Like sands on the long sea shore. 

A friend we have in childhood, — 

We meet and play and part. 
Like chips on the waters drifting 

With neither love nor heart. 

The world is wide yet very small, — 
The world is small, yet O how wide! 

And while we taste the sweet and gall 
We drift like chips upon the tide. 

The world has a billion people 

And hearts are fain to roam 
'Till the thought comes o'er us, stealing. 

There's never a place like home. 

The world has a billion people! 

The race will soon be run! 
Of the hearts of the bilHon people 

Love one, love only one! 



43 



MY DEAD LOVE 

I watch the crescent moon 
CHmb up the arching sky. 

The river bank is strewn 

With reeds and grasses high. 

I He amongst the trees, 

As cHmbs the crescent moon, 

And there I feel the breeze 
From off the fair lagoon. 

And as she soars on golden wings, 

A virgin not yet grown, 
The insects hum, the river sings, 

And I am not alone. 

Ah, not alone! 

For, at this mystic hour, 
My lost one, hither flown. 

Comes to our moonlit bower, 

Where oft before, beneath the boughs, 

I felt her beating heart. 

She comes again to hear my vows — 

She comes, but only part 

Is here. The silvery beams 

Of light shine through her form. 

The eyes that once with gleams 

Of love were full, now storm 

My soul with sadness. 

I clasp her in my arms 

And yet she is not there. 

My brain is near to madness, 

I touch her flowing hair, 



44 



And with the old smile on her lips, 
From out my arms she gently slips, 
And when I hear the river's moan, 
Upon the ground I lie alone. 

THE BRIGHT SIDE 

She swings with song and laughs with love, 
This ancient world of ours — 
She sorrows long and lifts above 
Her eyes to hidden powers. 

Then let the martyr bare his head. 
The sanctified sing psalms — 
ril search amongst a flowery bed 
And roses give for alms. 

It may be true that Sorrow's hand 
With weight on some is laid, 
But why see gloom and running sand 
Because a rose will fade? 

Then let sweet youth be gaily gowned. 
We'll dance and not alone — 
We'll fill the air with laughter's sound 
While roses red are strown. 

O KISS ME 

Give me one warm kiss ! 

I ask no more. 

I know you love me not. 

But give me this 

And I will hold it, dear, — 

A thousand years in store. 

45 



Force me not there 

Alone, till you have kissed my longing lips 

As you have done before, 

When you and I, on Grecian Isles, 

Once dwelt and youth was fair — 

Kiss me again, ere life is o'er! 

The sweetness of the kisses 

I have dreamed 

Of giving you ! 

The rapture of the torture 

When it seemed 

As if you knew! 

Sweet is first love. 
Sweeter than breath, 
Too dear for life. 
Sweet unto deathi — 
Thus was it that I died 
And you another's bride. 

How many times around 
Must turn the wheel 
Of birth and death, 
Till you will love? 
Till you will feel 
Your lover's breath — 
His kisses? 

O give me what I ask. 

One wild, sweet kiss 

To last a thousand years. 

That I may bask 

In this blest thought 

Till you shall love! 

O kiss me now ! ^ 

.46 



QUIET DREAMS 

And sometimes in my quiet dreams 
The years roll back apace, 

I see as oft I used to see 
A fair, sweet, girlish face — 

A face to me so dear in past, 

Upon this lovelit day 
I think to find again at last 
And hold in sight alway. 

THE PATHOS OF THE AGES 

A particle of spirit pure 

Dressed in garb of flesh and bone 
Drawn to earth where sirens lure, 

Battling blindly for its own, — 
O, the pathos of the coming 

O'er the road trod oft before! 
O, the breasting of the breakers 

Beating on life's rugged shore! 

Pity shines in angel faces, 

Guardian angels asking trust. 
Tears have left their hallowed traces 

In their faces and the dust. 
Spirit struggling with brute forces 

Striving bravely with fierce lust — 
O, the pathos of the ages 

Seen in wages ever just! 

Silence sullen, forehead slanting, 
Sensual longings, centuries through,- 

Like a beast with passion panting 
Strives the newborn for the dew 

47 



Glistening ever in its forming 
On the spirit heights ahead, 

On the battlements he's storming, 
On the rocks where men have bled. 

Striving ever, groping blindly. 

Knowing not the life he wants. 
Thinking that the dewy twinkling 

Is a guide to sirens' haunts, — 
Scoffed at, laughed at by his fair ones. 

Fool and knave in him shall blend, 
He it is that, full of folly, runs 

For rainbow's golden end. 

O, the pity of the struggling 

Through the years, all blindly here! 
Grasping at the straws he's passing. 

Drawing nigh to death with fear. 
Lifting loads through lengthy years. 

Carrying cares with furrowed face. 
Beaten back while blinding tears 

Force him under in the race. 

Death again comes all too quickly, — 

How he clings to cruel life! 
Lying there so wan and sickly. 

Robbed his days of pleasures rife. 
Death and birth play on forever 

Back and forth with souls of men. 
Straining each upon life's lever. 

Bringing rest then strife again. 

D, the pathos of the a^es 

Ushered in with blood or rhyme! 
Swinging on while battle rages, 

Smiling on through endless time. 

48 



Born again for sad undoing, 
Learning lessons o'er and o'er, 

From a different angle viewing, 
Scaling heights oft scaled before. 

Now he hears the songs of angels, 

Sees the soul in other eyes, — 
O, the pathos of his longing 

As his spirit fain would rise! 
Soaring up to realms of heaven, 

Leaving dross and lust behind, 
Cutting loose from earthly leaven, 

Purified by spirit mind. 

Life's ambition leaves him never, 

Stands he now a man set free 
Knowing things that bind and sever 

In the troubled, human sea. 
O, the pity of the knowing! 

O, the bitter dregs of time! 
When a soul with spirit glowing 

Sells itself to sordid crime, 

Leagues itself with develish doings. 

Startles men with hidden power. 
Sullies self with lustful wooings, 

Sucks the sweetness of the hour. 
O, the pathos of the falling! 

O, the depths that souls can go! 
O, the thoughts forever galling 

And the hell of bitter woe! 

Ages pass, pathetic ages, 

Till that soul attains once more 

To the vantage ground of victory, 
To the peaceful, spirit shore. 

49 



Ages pass, pathetic ages, 

While the balance weight is fair, — 
Weary work but welcome wages — 

Angels singing in the air. 

Angels singing, guardian angels. 

Guiding souls the long road o'er. 
Smiling ever on the striving. 

Guiding up from out the lower. 
O, the pathos of the ages 

Where God only knows the way ! 
O, the pity that the stages 

Mark the paths where all souls stray! 

Now he stand where eyes of mortal 

May not see his guiding hand, 
May not see the pearly portal 

At the gates of spirit land. 
He has won one fairest garland. 

He has scaled one height aloft. 
He is there in spirit starland 

With the angels' music, soft. 

Dare one say to all earth's people, 

Dare one say to you, O friend. 
That the Heaven's rest you long for 

Is a struggle without end, — 
That the City's gates all glowing 

And the streets of jasper there 
Are but milestones in the going 

To another land more fair? 

O, the pathos of the ages 
Pictured out in lives of men! 

O, the onward roll that sages 

May not bound by *'Now" or "Then"! 

$0 



But the faith we learn from pity, 
Pity crying in the land, 

Bringeth souls to Heavenly City 
In the hollow of God's hand. 



SOUTH— NORTH 

Languid lady of the South, 

Psyche in a sensuous clime, 
Satiate with kiss of mouth, 

Weary of love's trysting time. 
Dreaming through the dolorous day 

Of snowy lands far, far away — 
Go thou to a Northern coast. 

Thy dream shall surely be thy host. 

THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM 

Ten thousand years ago 
There was a day of battle. 
When women fought as men 
With swords and spears. 
That pierced like horns of cattle. 
Strong, naked women rode 
Astride fierce chargers — 
Ten thousand years ago. 

Long hair from riders streamed 

And unclothed forms lay dead 

Beside the way. 

Fair breasts gave blood instead 

Of milk, that day 

And unveiled bosoms gleamed. 

For woman first was in the fray. 

51 



The pendulum now far has swung 

The other way, and great 

The change in men! 

While triflers think a steady course 

Of time doth wait 

On culture and the rule of pen, 

That Love hath taken place of Force. 



THE THREE DESIRES 

A boy with golden locks and dreamy eyes 

Filled full the daylight hours — 
He went in chase of butterflies 

And birds and rarest flowers. 

His playmates offered him a share 

Of berries picked and birds' nests robbed 

But he returned with tangled hair 
To mother's arms and sobbed, and sobbed. 

And as the child dropped off to sleep 

Upon his little trundle bed 
He sobbed again in sorrow deep, 

'T could not find my flower all red!" 

A youth of beauty rare, with flashing eyes, 

Always accompanied pleasure 
And tried to go where Cupid flies 

When lilting o'er his measure. 

He played with Love and passed with Passion 
Through groves in Grecian isles, — 

He laughed with Love and silly Fashion 
And then retraced the weary miles. 



52 



The mother arms were old and weak 

But mother heart the same, — 
The youth returned to comfort seek 

And sobbing- shook his frame. 

And as he knelt at close of day 
With buried face at mother's side 

He sobbed again in childhood's way 
"I could not find my dreamland bride!" 

A man, in ways of men grown old. 
With poet's brow and earnest eyes. 

Who knew that flesh is only mold, 
That spirit soars beyond the skies. 

Sought day and night throughout the years 

To solve life's riddle, dark. 
Read ancient books, gave prayer and tears, 

On spirit heights to set his mark. 

But with his last and failing strength 

He turned his footsteps brave 
Toward mother's love, O weary length 

Of road! he found her grave. 

And as he knelt where flesh is robbed, 

Where kneel old age and youth, 
He whispered, as he sobbed and sobbed, 

*T could not find God's hidden truth!" 

THEN MINSTREL PUT THE VIOL DOWN 

Last night we sang the old, sweet songs. 
Familiar all and dear, 
And with the words forgot our wrongs, 
Forgot our pain and fear. 

53 



For eyes met eyes and voices played 
On tender chords of love 
While hearts beat gently and obeyed 
The rhythm from above. 

But when the bow stole o'er the strings 
Of tragic violin 

The frenzied fears that passion brings 
Came weirdly stealing in. 

O minstrel, play no more, — beware! 
A wraith has seized the bow, 
A human cry is in the air 
And well the cry we know. 

The rise and fall of that wild strain 
Is soul of love's sad sobs. 
That subtle note doth wake the pain 
In human heart which throbs. 

Then, minstrel, put the viol down — 
Sing only songs we love. 
The maidens' songs which bring no frown, 
Like cooings of a dove. 



WRAITHS 

Sweet beings come to me with dawn's dear 

charms, 
Fair pictures making. 

And I would clasp them in my slumb'rous arms, 
As I am waking. 

They stay, nor will they go ! 
Like tale, just read, 

54 



They rend my heart, while well I know 
Their forms are dead. 

The loved ones lost in childhood's days 
Return from out the grave! 
My brother speaks, in boyish ways. 
My mother's smiles I crave, 

And not in vain. She comes, aglow 
With loving eyes. 

And then, with pain, I wake and know 
That dreams are lies. 



WOMAN'S LOVE 

They stood by the gate of the old farm place 
And the stars shone down on a vow 

And he kissed her there on her upturned face 
And he kissed her fair on her brow. 

The stars shine down forever and aye — 
They say they are steadfast and true. 

But he bade her there a long §^ood-by 
As the stars shone down on the dew. 

In the city's gleam and the city's glare 

He found a life that was new 
And gone was the face so young and fair 

That he left with the stars and the dew. 

But the cultured grace of a worldly face 

He found in the banquet hall 
A.nd the gleam of an arm from out the lace 

And the boson's rise and fall. 



55= 



O, where is the man with love so fair? 

O, where is the man so strong? 
He kissed her face and he kissed her hair 

And her love was his for a song; 

Then a soul was sunk in deep disgrace,—^ 
'Twas O, for the love of youth! 

Twas O, for the gate of the old farm place 
And the eyes so full of truth ! 

But the moving finger would not pause 

Nor half a line erase 
And the beauty fair beneath the gauze 

Was gone with a clouded face. 

They stood by the gate of the long, long way 
And death held aloof for a space, 

For she had come at the break of day 
With the love in her poor, thin face. 

Her hands were hard and her gown was old, 
They told her that death was near, 

But her heart was true and pure as gold 
And her love knew never a fear, 

So she pressed her lips to his cold, white brow 
And his head she held on her breast 

As she whispered over the old time vow 
Neath the stars that sank in the west. 

But death stands ready forever and eye 
With his scythe and his winding sheet. 

So she bade him there a long good-by 
And kissed him fond and sweet. 



56 



THE ENVIED ROSE 

She wears a rose just budding now, 

O rose, that I were thou! 
Red rose she wears in her wavy hair, 

O rose, that I were there! 
She wears a glow on her lovely brow, 

A glow from a life of truth, 
And O, that I might wanton tear 

A kiss from lovely youth! 



THE SORCERESS 

She thunders forth the words of law ! 

In regal gown, bedecked with stones. 

She dazzles untaught eyes. 

With queenly grace she stands 

Without a spot or flaw, 

Her tragic voice the groans 

Of men. Her every step defies: 

Her eyes observe the outstretched hands. 

Eternity! Eternity! thy angel fair is she! 
With right arm raised and flashing eyes 
She speaks for time long past ; 
With hand across her gleaming brow 
Her piercing glance can see 
What future has of truth and lies 
What things shall die and what shall last 
And men, agast, behold and bow. 



57 



BLOOD 

Before the Gates of Pekin — July- August — i^oo. 

The days of earth are full of grim portent ! 

The swaddling clothes of Peace 

Were changed to whitest fleece, 

A garment without rent. 

And Peace herself stood out, 

In that pure garb of white 

And brooding wings of War and doubt 

Withdrew in face of her fair might. 

Then struck, with clanging sound, 

The mailed hand of War, 

And shrieking eagles swooped to ground 

And scattered swift, and tore 

The whiite-winged doves of Peace, 

And smell of blood gave lease 

To thrust of sword and cannon's roar. 

The greed of men that made Rome fall, 
The curse of gold, on high and low. 
The grasp of might that crushes all 
And gleans what others bled to sow. 
Are things that Hell has lent. 

The Lion, on the Afric plains. 
Has strode where Freedom dwelled 
And Britain has increased her gains, 
While Liberty is felled. 

America! the arms of millions, 
Strike in wrath at Thee, 
While Ignorance shows defiance, 
Instead of bended knee. 

58 



America! the proudest name 
That man has ever penned, 
Upon Thy Banner never blame 
Has found a place to sully Fame — 
Stand clear while nations rend! 

Blood drips from hoary locks of Strife, 
Death stalks on land and sea, 
Grim War has come again to life 
And Peace is forced to flee. 

Blood and Battle is the cry! 

The Battle Kings are drawing nigh! 

Might and Ignorance thrust and bound! 

The Gods contend ! and on the ground 

Where millions swarm, the sound 

Of blows, the death withstood 

Give lie to human brotherhood! 



TILL THEN AND YET UNTIL 

You do not bid me wait — 

Then wait I will. 
You do not bid me love — 

Then love I still. 
Until the soul is dead 

Till then and yet until. 



COMMUNION 

In a quiet, desert twilight 

One lone star came faintly out — 
Only I was there to see it 

With the desert vast; about. 

459 



Then the desert sang her night song 
As the sea sings far from land 

And the wind blew over billows, 
Ever white, of shifting sand. 

And the spirit of the vastness, 
Almost human, something more, 

Spoke to me in gentle murmur 
Like the waves along the shore. 

Look above thee in the heavens! 

Where that one star faintly shone 
Many more shine round about it — 

Nothing living lives alone. 

When in Time's fair early morning, 
Time that was not nor is yet, 

Full of sweet and purest longing 
Brahm a world did first beget, 

Then it was that starry friendship 
Came to life for evermore, 

Brahtn created for communion, 
Dotted space with planets o'er. 

THAT WHICH I SCORNED 

Love came to a boy in a quiet place 
And changed his life in a day. 
Pride came to a girl with a lovely face 
And she journeyed far away. 

The boy and the girl were playmates long 
In the village by the sea, 
Love came to the boy and sang his song 
And he dreamed of naught but me. 

.60 



And he told me there of lovers sweet dream 
In the village by the sea, 
But my heart was full of the glint and gleam 
Of the life I'd planned for me. 

Years went by — Fate brought me all 
And more than I'd asked of life, 
I tasted the sweet and not the gall — 
Fate crowned me in the strife. 

Men asked me for love and swore their faith. 

Knights on bended knee. 

But between us oft I saw the wraith 

Of the love he sang to me. 

O, dreaming boy that sang love's song 
In the village by the sea, 
Where is the heart grown brave and strong 
That once you offered me? 



WORSHIP— A WRAITH 

Up from the strife of a callous world 

Comes the shout of unbelief. 

Out from the struggling mass of souls 

The fret with the common lot. 

As steals the baseborn thief, 

The cry that God is not. 

Hand in hand with the pride of living 
Goes the blackened form of lust. 
On with the stride of progress 
The tiger to leap and tear. 
And men go down in the dust 
And cries go up in the air. 

6i 



Wooed by sons of men to-day 

Is the ghost of a hving faith 

And wisdom's pearls from the beach of tirne 

Are poorer than common stones. 

And worship is but a wraith 

Who^ rattles her shrunken bones. 



THE MYSTIC SECRET 

'Twas at a ball in winter time, 

Old earth was white with snow 

And youth and age and song and rhyme 

Were there with music low. 

And I, a youth with throbbing heart, 
Had come at Love's behest 
To feel again the pointed dart 
Hid fair in maiden's breast. 

And as I stood, all but concealed 
'Neath palms from southern skies, 
I caught that flash and 'twas revealed. 
The secret, all, in woman's eyes. 

FAME AND LOVE 

Stretch high on marbled Fame 

Thine arm and write aflame 

In letters fair, thy name, 

O friend! . ., . . ,. - ., , 

Yet higher stretch thine hand ; ^^. 

And write so fair that running sand,- ;* 
Of thine shall pause, while band - - ji 
Of critics cold give meed - • , 

62 



Of praise and peoples read 
And hear of thee afar, 

friend! 

And if, in mire 
Bent low, 

1 higher 

On Fame's marble help thee 

Write again thy name, 

Freely will I bend so — 

To do it not would be my shame. 

And when 'tis there aloft, 
Thy name in letters soft 
Of golden gleams all fair, 
I'll climb as high 
As thou my friend the stair 
That all men try. 

And by thy name aflame 
With trembling hands 
I'll write my fame 
As thou didst write, 
While pause the sands 
In endless time 
To wait on might, 
On song and rhyme. 

And when men see on marble shaft 
Thy name and rnine with equal craft 
Carved there in scroll of Fame 
I'll come and kiss thy angry brow 
And tell thee that I love thee now, 
And ever shall the same. 



63" 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE 

Two thousand years ago, 

Before a slave of Caesar, 

There stood a man 

That was a King-. 

And the slave cleansed his hands, 

White over a mantel 

That hid a blackened heart, 

And the King was taken to his death. 

Gloom hung about Calvary. 
On the faces of the rabble 
There was gloom. 
Gloom was on the earth, 
Yet rejoiced were the stars 
For the prestage was of peace. 
The stone was rolled away, 
The King came forth 
And glorious was the resurrection. 

PUNISHMENT 

And whose'er with trifling hand 
Shall strike Love's sacred Harp 
And on its strings divine 
Breathe one unhallowed breath, 
The Gods shall make repine 
And bring tO' direst death. 

A NIGHT WITH FATE 

Bedeviled by grin Satanic, 

Hiding human heart beats. 
Fate walked in early morning, 

With me, through city streets. 

64 



Toilers and grinders were plodding 

Away to their daily strife, 
With the sullen faces of oxen, 

To earn the bread of life. 

Up through the smoke of a century 

A patch of blue I saw, 
But the eyes of the slave looked downward. 

The winter wind was raw. 

Fate grinned as he hailed a toiler, 

Swinging along the way, 
"Ho Richard! How like you living? 

Was't better in ancient day?" 

Instantly the man's form straightened, 
Eyes flashed with a kingly flame — 

He stood there a ruler in triumph. 
The Richard of England's fame. 

Fate beckoned me ever onward. 

We entered the factory door 
And there in a hundred faces 

The ghastly tale read o'er. 

Men sang, but there's singing and singing 
And the song that covers a woe 

Were better shorn of beginning 
In the centuries long ago. 

In the slums of the throbbing city 

We know men live and die: 
Fate called, I hurried onward 

For I heard a woman's cry. 



65 



In clutch; of the mob, an outcast 
Whose hair was streaming wide — 

Sobs shook her naked bosom, 
But Fate walked by her side. 

"Ho, ho, my royal lady! 

How sets the beggar's gown? 
How like you this old earth again? 

And where has gone thy crown?" 

As clouds before a winter's gale 
Went cries to welcome death — 

The beggar rose with royal mien, 
She was Elizabeth. 

Fate grinned no more, but in his face 
Shone pity and sweet sorrow, 

A tear for all the human race 
Who live again to-morrow. 

I hurried as he beckoned oft 
And paused beside the tide: 

He spoke and pointed to the sun— 
"Life has a happier side." 



WHAT'S TO DO? 

A lily white love is my lady fair 

Yet am I not elate 

And bonny and brown her waving hair 

But cruel is my fate, 

For I may never tell, all fond. 

The threefold story, sweet — 

My aching heart doth quite despond 

And fall at Amor's feet. 

66 



For I with lowly toil am worn, 
Comes she of high estate 
And Cupid's wings are sadly torn 
Nor can he more shoot straight. 

THE OCEAN BURIAL 

Bury in cold and chilly earth 
Unfeeling, chilly hearts — 
To her embrace let them return 
From out the crowded marts 
Of cities, lost to joyous mirth. 

But one, young, gentle and refined 

Whose clay must lie rest, 

For such fair temple let us find 

A place 'neath ocean's breast 

And bid her lie where waves are kind. 

It is not well that fair and lovely forms 

Should rest where worms may crawl, 

'Neath damp and callous earth at last 

The rounded limbs that did enthrall — 

Dead shells on ocean's bed are safe from storms ! 

Then place her there and shed no tears, 
Where wave the tinted arms of weeds 
With rainbow hands and prismic eyes, 
O leave here there at last! 'neath reeds 
That rise and fall through days and years. 

The glow of pearls close by her head. 
The trailing weed a winding sheet. 
Where colored fishes softly kiss 
And tufty moss upholds her feet, ^ 

Where ocean flowers adorn the dead. 

67 



SWEETHEART 

Sweetheart, I sail away to thee 
Wlherever the helmsman steers, 

Whenever the main is wild and free 
My hope doth banish tears. 

Sweetheart, I strive alway for thee 
Wherever my swift feet tread, 

What task my eager eyes may see 
'Tis done for hope ahead. 

Sweetheart, of thee I dream alway 
'Neath stars and summer skies 

And by thy side I long to stay 
And read thy shining eyes. 

'Tis true I know thee not. Sweetheart 

Nor are thy kisses real, 
But still of me art thou a part, 

My own, my fond ideal. 

HUMAN WATERS 

Thou breathing, pulsing, human stream 

That flows through tortuous streets. 

Winding, gliding, rushing on 

To where a cross road meets 

And ever on — fast — slow 

And fast again. 

With head erect and shoulders square. 

With drooping mien and eyes that dare 

Not look above — 

Whose spray is cast aside, 

Whose beggars cry aloud 

And ask for alms, 

68 



Whose lame and halt can not abide 

The crush — 

The rush 

Of human will — 

The restless stride! 

Thou human water 

That dost cross a bridge 

O'er other waters, flowing, 

That take thy spray as theirs — 

Thou heartless thing 

That dost wind and glide 

Past fanes and grave yards 

But hast never time to pray, 

Laughing, 

Dancing, 

Singing on 

With ever ears for joy, 

With never tears for groans! 

Thou parricide, 

Thou murderer — grim visaged , 

Thou! — whose hand doth brush 

From youthful cheek its flush, 

Whose iron doth burn 

From youthful hearts 

Their charm and grace. 

Whose onward swirl doth people hell 

And temper souls for paradise! 

Thou, thou! — 

I throw myself upon thy breast 

And with thee hurry on ! 

Where to? 

Speak, speak 

And tell! 

Or do but murmur in mine ear 

If downward be the way. 



69 



THE HEART THAT THROBS INTENSE 

The mind that grasps at grandest things, 
(The heart that throbs, intense), 
Doth soar aloft on spirit wings 
In realms unknown to ignorance. 



WOMAN'S EYES 

In a second — 

With the lift and turn of a lash. 
My soul to hers was beckoned; 
I saw the gleam and flash 
Of eyes — her own — 

Life ! it stirs 
Eternity's dormant passion. 
In Eternity's olden fashion. 

1 saw what gleamed ! 
It pierced my youth! 
And now what seemed. 
Is changed to truth. 

What was it I beheld? 
Listen, listen! 
The flash of eyes! 
Eternal law 
Revealed. The rise. 
The fall, the ebb, the flow, 
The high, the low, 
The summer skies. 
The sunset glow. 
And passion's sweets. 
Her fond heart beats! 



70 



UNFATHOMABLE 

You thought you knew what love was 

A Ufe time, most, ago — 
You've loved and hated and suffered 

But still you do not know. 

You've scaled the highest mountain 
And throbbed in the arms of art — 

Measured the depths of ocean, 
But never the human heart. 

Gods may sense the eternal. 

The angels may know its goal — 

Each may fathom the other. 
But never a woman's soul. 

IMPATIENCE FOR FAME 

O Time! wilt thou not hurry? 
To-night I wait unhappy, in my room 
As bride awaits the lagging groom. 
And near are books and papers strewn, 
Fame's favorites I behold, and soon 
Fame's favor I would curry. 

Ambition, rouse ! rouse up and do — 
Thou sweetest thing that God 
Has stirred in cup of Life, 
Warm breath of Being, Soul of strife, 
Give me Fame's wings ere I to sod 
Return, and Life is through. 

The few that act upon Life's stage! 
This man that writes a book ! 
That woman in whose fiery look 

71 



Is food for printed sheet, 
Whose words of song are meet 
To make men weep or rage! 

I will ! I will do things as great ! 

Nor shall I wait on laggard Time ! 

I'll write such words in frenzied rhyme 

That men shall pause, and feel 

Like soldiers thrust with pointed steel! 

O hurry Time, come on like Fate! 

"Hush, foolish one, hast thou not learned/ 
Spake voice within my heart, 
"That Time is not— that Art 
Doth flee from all save giant hands 
That build so strongly, that the sands 
Of life are backward turned ? 

"Do thou thy work, think not of balm 
That soothes, if name of thine is sought; 
Most things, at last, shall come to naught; 
The song shall cease and book decay, 
But thought shall live, if in it ray 
Of Truth is seen, strong, pure, and calm." 



^2. 



Poems of California and the West 
A SIGN 

O YE THAT LOVE OUR WESTERN 

SHORES, 
MORE FAIR THAN ANCIENT GREECE, 
HERE FOR THE WORLD ARE OPEN 

DOORS 
AND GOD HAS WET HIS FLEECE! 



n 



A CITY OF CALIFORNIA 

O, city of a poet's dream! 
By mountains girt about, 
With valleys full of glossy gleam 
Of orange trees, that often seem 
To' raise their arms with offerings 
Of sweet and golden profiferings, 
Too fair for gods to doubt. 

Grand mountains rise on either side, 
Snow-capped in summer days 
And far away to distant tide, 
Throbbing, passionate, like virgin bride. 
Billowy mists of green and blue 
Rise and fall with every hue 
That artist sees in blended rays. 

And where on heights Diana drove 
Now man hath wrought in nature's ways. 
Fair gardens, fit for gods to rove. 
Through airy aisles and lemon grove 
To smell the balm like that which blows 
From Thessaly. 

Man here forgets his shadowy woes, 
And dreams with Love of coming days. 

And looking off where vision ends, 
On rolling depths the eye alights. 
While azure blue of heaven bends, 
Down, down, and then with ocean blends. 
Until the sight of man isdim^. 
And mystic thoughts steal over. him - • 
And raise him up to awful heights; ■ 



75- 



O, city of a favored land! 

O, virgin ne'er to mate! 

Thy mountains 'round thee grimly stand, 

Thy fairness is on every hand, 

While Star of Empire, Westward bent, 

Unto thy name acclaim has lent, 

Thy future shall be great. 



THE SPIRIT OF LOS ANGELES. 

Ethereal dweller, neath southern skies. 
With shining, yellow hair 
Where gloom awing with wishing flies 
And life is fond and fair. 

What gardens of the gods aglow 
Were tended with thy care 
Before this summer land could know 
Thy spirit in the air? 

Thou siren near the silvery shore 

Of verdant flowery lands 

The gods bend down to love thee more— 

To kiss thy dimpled hands ! 

On rugged Sierra Madra's crest 
The tall dark pines are sighing 
That they migiht clasp thy virgin breast 
Where moonbeams find thee lying. 

And on the hardened ocean beach 
The waves are laughing, foaming — 
Then ever strive to nearer reach 
Were thou art, ever roaming. 



;6 



The orange trees stretch out their arms 
With golden profferings laden 
And nodding flowers bend low their charms 
To worship such a maiden. 



HAIL TO THE CHIEF 

Thou art come, 
Chieftain of the Nation! 

In ancient Greece 

There woke a singer once 

And in the centuries 

That have flown 

She has been called 

By men 

The Poet. 

Naught may be used 

To greater make 

That which greatest is, — 

Fate ne'er surer flew 

Because the lesser powers 

Hung trappings on his wings, — 

And so we hail thee Chief 

And call the country that thou rulest 

The Nation of the earth. 

Here where Junipero came, 

Where Spain's bold flag 

Dripped blood upon the land, 

Where Fremont stood 

The outpost of the New 

And glittering gold 

Was wooed by all the world, 

In triumph thou art come, 

Through groves of green 

77 



And vales of nodding flowers, — 
And in the Western heart 
Enough there is still left 
Of ancient loyalty 
Unto a kingly cause 
To hail thee King of Nations, 
Yet know thee — citizen 
And president. 

And thus it is 

We give thee welcome. 

Written at the time of President McKinley's 
visit to Los Angeles and the Pacific Coast in 
May — 1901. 

JUNIPERO SERRA 

Fair the breezes fanned Majorca 

On a day in early spring 

And through the streets of ancient Petra 

Hurried friends to tidings bring. 

To a Spaniard laboring slowly. 

Waiting for the sunset gun, 

Came these eager friends and lowly 

Bringing tidings of a son. 

Junipero Serra — man of iron in days of olden! 
In glittering empyrean should thy deeds be 

sung — 
Hadst Ihou lived to circumstance more beholden 
Time's hand would hardly turn so far but tongue 
Of man should render praise to thee, 
But hearts of men with inspiration swell 
At thought of those that, reverent, bowed the 

knee 
To work of thine, done all so well. 

78 



Where daring deeds there were to do 

And paths in virgin forests 'bout 

For iron men hke you 

To hew and straighten out, 

Thou earnest and oft didst dream 

That God and empire sent thee here, 

The unfurled flag of Spain and gleam 

Of Christly cross the souls of men to cheer. 

O day of July first 

In year long gone ! 
Thou wert of Alta California 

The Natal Day 
• And the greatness 

That thou didst usher in 
Was more, and closer 

To the stride of Fate 
Than ever day before 

Didst dawn upon. 
In the annals of 

That County fair 
To which, with unknown guidance. 

Thou didst yield 
The twilight 

Of thy coming. 

THE EIGHTH WONDER 

Where California's mountains rise 
With snowy peaks to summer skies, 
Where savage tribes in early day 
Gave up a land to Christian sway 
And flag of Spain on bloody sod 
Was raised aloft in name of God, 



79 



There in the South where skillful hand 
Hath made a garden of the land, 
Where brain and brawn and buried gold 
Have brought the new from out the old, 
Where far away o'er mountains' crest 
The Star of Empire seeks the West, 

There chiseled in rude cafion bed 

The centuries show the Arrow Head. 

While Pyramids of Egypt stand 

And men can trace on Eastern sand 

The Walls of Babylon; — in dreams 

Behold her Hanging Gardens, and the gleams 

Of golden light that flicker rare 

From Temple of Diana fair, 

And once again in worship stand 

By Jovian Statue on Olympian strand — 

While we Colossus view at Rhodes, 

And Mausoleum death forbodes, 

E'en yet on rugged mountain side 
The Arrow Head doth still abide 
And so it shall while Time doth run 
And earth doth smile at shining sun — 
To tell the world of peoples, dead, 
That lived and loved by Arrow Head. 



ON RAYMOND HILL 

Out through the vista of the hills 
He gazes and listens and dreams. 
Birds are singing, butterflies winging. 
Life his pulses thrills 
And close to her he's clinging. 



Bo 



Distant the sound of a bell, 
Distant the city's strife. 
About him the murmur of summer 
And sweet the wildflowers' smell 
And quickened the throb of life. 

Barefooted, a boy came singing, 
Swinging his chubby fists, 
Glad and joyous came singing 
But with him sadness was bringing 
In memory of bygone trysts. 

O the love of a blue-eyed maiden ! 
O the thought of other years 
When life was lived in Aidenn, 
Long ago with the love of a maiden- 
O cease ye blinding tears ! 



A DREAM PROPHECY 

A summer sun shone on an orchard fair, 
That stretched about a southern home, 
A California home of dreams, 
And one sat there beneath the trees 
And gazed into the blue, ethereal dome 
Of heaven the while the gleams 
From glossy leaves and hum of bees 
Enthralled, for peace was in the air. 

He was a youth with bronzed and earnest face 
Who sat beneath those cooling bows 
And glanced, betimes, upon his grandsire, old, 
Whose palsied frame at Gettysburg had fought; 
But now he listened to the oft-told vows 
Of love, a jnrlish voice did sweetly mold 

8i 



To purest song, with passion frought, 
And give to earth with gentle grace. 

Then one stood forth, all bright with other life, 
And hum of bees and girlish song were not 
And he that saw was dead to earth, mayhap. 
And knew but her whose name was Peace. 
"Take, take the gifts the gods to you have 

brought" 
She said. "Enjoy, for time will come when lap 
Of mine shall overflow and lease 
Of love shall change to cruel strife. 

"As truck thy grandsire's arm in battle's shock, 
As groaned that land and reddened o'er with 

blood, 
As died her sons and wailed her widows then, 
As cringed her Freedom in the gates of Fear, 
So this land shall groan beneath the flood 
That whelms her children, till that hour when 
They shall rise and rescue Freedom, near 
Run to earth, while rich men mock." 



CATALINA 

Catalina, Siren maiden! 

Lying clothed in satin blue. 

In waters warm as those of Aidenn- 

The summer skies bend over you. 

Lap the waves against thee ever, 
Kiss the winds thy naked limbs, 
Tires Nesaee never, never — 
White her foam the sea beach dims. 



82 



Catalina, eastward glancing 

At thy lover's lofty head, 

With the moonlight on thee dancing, 

Far Sierra sees thy bed. 

Sly Aeolus hovers over 
Pressing kisses on thy mouth. 
Fair to him — the fickle rover — 
Are thine odors from the south. 

Mystic Isle, in bed of ocean. 
Thou hast bared thyself to love, 
Warmed art thou with Amor's potion 
And thine arms are stretched above. 

Hearts for thy embrace are beating. 
Never Lesbos better knew 
That the Muses' favor, fleeting. 
Is for those that sail to you. 



THE BANYAN TREE ATAVALON, CATA- 
LINA ISLAND 

Came you there by bird or billow, 
Washed by wave or carried far 

With some flight of sea birds, winging 
Underneath the tropic star. 

There to grow with gum and willow? 

Banyan tree, we bless thy waking 

On the isle where Avalon 
Nestles in the sea-girt canyon, 

Dreaming of the days long gone, 
Listening to the billows breaking. 



83 



Came you from the Eastern Indies? 

Of thy coming we will boast! 
Came you from the fair Hawaii 

Or from Persia's balmy coast, 
Sacred fig tree o'er the seas? 

Whence or whither was thy coming 
Matters not, O Banyan tree, 

Thou art sign of tropic gloaming, 
Thou art rife of things to be 

In this land, the end of roaming, 
Where thou camest, o'er the sea. 

Lone and lonely Banyan tree. 

A HISTORY OF ARIZONA 

Brown and bare the desert. 
Under a sun-cursed sky — 
Far the stretch of the sand hills. 
To the mountains, looming high — 
Drear and dun the village, 
Where somebody came to die. 

Over the waste of the desert. 

Gleamed the steely track, 

Over the heart of somebody 

The longing to go back — 

0.h, that the light for somebody 

Could shine through the coming black ! 

Gay and bright the laughter. 
Under the ball-room light — 
Low and sweet the music 
Far into fleeting night — 
Fair and queenly a woman. 
Wielding her royal might. 

84 



She was the thought of somebody, 
Coughing his Hfe away. 
Silently, hopelessly loving, 
Loving and blessing always — 
Constant the thought of somebody, 
Loving, night and day. 

Grim at the stake the martyrs 
Lifted their eyes and prayed! 
First in the fray the soldier. 
Firm and unafraid! 
But out on the dreary desert 
Somebody's grave was made! 

THE SONG OF THE SIREN OF RIO COL- 
ORADO 

Love to your death ye dark skinned race. 

The foe of the North, the Pale Face! 
Sigh to the hills, burnt and old — 

He Cometh, ;he loveth the yellow gold. 
I lie in the bend of the dark brown stream — 

With the mountains of eld I watch and dream 
And yon where trees the gorges span 

Winds oft the White Man's caravan. 
Far in the East the Red Man died— 

There, soundeth now the conqueror's stride 
And the Indian's fate with change is frought 

For bold and brave is the argonaut. 
I dream at night in the full moon's gleam 

As, silent, I swim the sullen stream : 
Since the birth of the hills I've held my sway 

Peoples have lived and passed away! 
What to me is the Indian's death? 

'Tis the waning stir of a desert breath. 
But fairer than all the gold in the West 

85 



Is my mystic spell in a maiden's breast; 
Yet the passing Red Man's hand will kill 

On the barren plain and rugged hill. 
And I must save out of blood and fire 

A fair faced boy from savage ire — 
I'll wrap him now with power about 

While his friends go down in treacherous rout. 
Fierce and wild are those fiends of hell — 

Know the seekers of gold the story well ! 

On desert plains where the hot sun pours 

And the River flows tO' ocean shores — 
Melted snows from mountain rills 

Thick with red of basalt hills — 
Here in the South — the Indian's land — 

Shall Fate make strong the White Man's hand. 
The Siren knows the sullen way 

Of the sinuous stream by night and day — 
She laughs at the future and mocks the past 

For naught is changeless — naught shall last, 
But the wakening dream and mystic spell 

In a maiden's breast are hidden well — 
She will hold him close with her warm, dark 
arms 

And he shall love her savage charms. 
Yet Juta's song will grow faint and still 

For The God Of The Air hath power to kill 
And Basla's cry shall tell the grief 

Of a broken tribe and a powerless chief. 

In the yellow swirl of the yellow stream 
I swim with the flood in a half day dream — 

I pick the gold from my thick, damp hair 
And the mountain spirits calls me fair 

And ever when the bank doth fall 



86 



A rapturous lover hears my call, 
While every stark and stranded tree 

Holds drowning fauns who cry to me ; 
But I laugh aloud and shake my hair — 

For a siren's love the brave shall dare! 
Oh, strange the things my spell will do 

And the work of my hands is never through — 
See yonder camp of Pale Face braves! 

They too are Moera's willing slaves 
And the youth with the babe of straight, dark 
hair 

Is the maiden's love— The God Of The Air. 
And now they go with pick and pan 

To the Western shore with the caravan 
And the gold they find with shining face 

Shall change the hue of the dark skinned race, 
For war and love and glistening gold 

Are siren's tools since days of old. 



«7 



APR 19 1904 



